


Like Honey

by battybatzgirl



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bottom Spock, Dirty Talk, Foot Jobs, Interrogation, M/M, Spock has a lot of issues, Unrequited Lust, Unresolved Sexual Tension, You could cut it with a knife, like so much sexual tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 02:19:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11049264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/battybatzgirl/pseuds/battybatzgirl
Summary: When Mirror Jim Kirk accidentally gets beamed on board the U.S.S. Enterprise, he has a little fun harassing Spock during a "serious" interrogation.





	Like Honey

**Author's Note:**

> This...is like the dirtiest thing I've ever written. Mirror!art has been floating around tumblr lately, and I wanted to write some porn for it. Also, I just really like the idea of Mirror!Jim being able to call Spock cute in Vulcan. ;P

He received an alert that the mission to Talos V had experienced unexpected problems. That Captain Kirk was not the same, not _right_ —he attacked ensigns in the transporter room and didn’t stop until being stunned into unconsciousness. McCoy ran diagnostics, but confirmed the human who wore the same face was indeed James Kirk; though with the knowledge of the reality of alternative counterparts, it was only logical to assume he was from a different universe.

In order not to spread alarm among the crew, Spock volunteered to interrogate the man. Interrogation in a private room was better than a cell, because this Kirk was still fundamentally _Jim_ , and deserved a little dignity.

Armed with a PADD and a list of questions, Spock is certain he would be able to find out how the transporter mixup happened and know how to fix it within an hour. He is sure this Kirk would cooperate, as his Captain likely would—because from this universe or no, a captain needed to return to his ship.

But this, Spock reminds himself, was not _his_ Jim.

“Oh, good,” the other-Kirk says, rolling his eyes when Spock steps into the room. “Even you’re the infant version of yourself.”

Spock does not let the goading affect him and takes a seat at the table across from Kirk. He looks bored, almost, like he was being forced to sit through a bad opera instead of being stranded on a mirrored ship of his own. His wrists are shackled to the table, keeping him in firmly place and efficiently subdued. His uniform is different—still a gold shirt, but with no sleeves and a different insignia on it. Kirk’s exposed skin is littered with scars, the largest one stretching jaggedly along the side of his face.

“You look weird,” Kirk tells him. Spock glances up from the PADD to see he’s frowning. This Kirk shares the same speech pattern as his Captain and did not appear to have any outer injuries from the transporter. Spock makes a note on the PADD.

“You’re hotter with a beard.”

It also appears that no matter the universe, all Kirks held the tendency to provoke him.

“Our transporters indicate you are from an alternative universe,” Spock says instead, ignoring the comment. “Do you still serve under the _Enterprise_?”

“Your eyes are different, too,” Kirk comments, leaning as far back in the chair as his shackled wrists allow. “You look like a little mouse.”

“I am not a mouse,” Spock says indifferently, “and you do not belong in this reality. We must attempt to collect as much data as possible in order to return you to your proper universe, Mister Kirk.”

“ _Mister Kirk?_ ” he repeats sourly, the scar on his face crinkling as his face screws up. “That’s _Captain_ Kirk to you, officer.”

“Perhaps on your ship,” Spock responds coolly. “But you are not _my_ captain, and therefore I will not refer to you as such.”

Kirk still looks displeased. His eyes narrow and he shifts subtly in his seat, not once breaking his intense gaze. “Insubordinate.”

“Logical,” Spock counters.

Kirk rolls his eyes. Spock expects him to retort further, but he doesn’t. “I.S.S. _Enterprise_. Not this U.S.S. NC-whatever bullshit it is we’re on right now.”

Spock makes a note on his PADD and speaks again without looking up. “Is the Federation formed?”

“What the hell is a _federation?_ ” Kirk asks, his eyebrows pulling together. “We have the Empire. Jesus, don’t tell me you just go around and offer little white flags and olive branches to every unidentified planet you come across?”

“White flags suggest surrender after battle,” Spock says. “The United Federation of Planets is an organization of peace and does not engage in attack unless absolutely necessary.” At this, Jim rolls his eyes again. “We do not interrogate unfamiliar beings. The only reason you are under close observation is because you attacked many crew members in the transporter room, and forced us to restrain you as such. You would not be in this situation had you not done so.”

Kirk smirks. “Yeah, but then I wouldn’t be talking to the angel-faced version of my first officer, either.”

Spock clenches the stylus to the PADD a little tighter, but refuses to let Kirk get a larger reaction out of him. “I do not view you as a threat, Mister Kirk.”

“Oh no?” Kirk asks, his smirk widening. “Then how come I’m still chained up?”

“A standard precaution,” Spock tells him simply.

“Of course,” Kirk says, his tone mocking. “Very logical.” Then, his gaze darkens and a small thrill of _something_ jolts through Spock. “You should be afraid of me.”

Spock knows he should get back to the questions and gathering information, but something intrigues him about this Kirk. “I hold superior strength and the _to’tsu’k’hy_ at my dispense.”

Kirk leans forward, his eyes flashing. “You think that matters?” he hisses. “You think I don’t know how to take down my own Vulcan first officer? He probably put up a hell of a lot more of a fight than you would. You might have all that mind voodoo, but I’ve got physics on my side. The right kind of blow to your psy-points and you’d be out cold.”

Spock considers this, then realizes Kirk is right. If knowing how and where exactly to deliver a blow, a Vulcan would be incapacitated by the force even a weaker being such as a human could provide.

But instead of dwelling on this, he turns back to the PADD. “Were you experiencing any kind of transporter malfunction prior to this venture?”

Kirk leans back again, blowing out a breath through his lips. He looks annoyed. “Christ, is this version of you always so vanilla? I can’t imagine how boring it must be to fuck you, I can barely stand listening to you.”

Spock’s head snaps up. He wonders for a moment if he misheard Kirk, fighting down a flush that automatically rises to his skin.

“I—” Spock clears his throat, the intensity of Kirk’s gaze making him falter. “I beg your pardon?”

“What?” Kirk asks flatly. “Is talking about sex not logical enough for you?”

Spock once again feels at a loss. “My relationship with my captain does not hold a sexual nature.”

“ _What?_ ” Kirk says, his eyebrows shooting up, looking genuinely surprised. “Why not?”

Spock quickly reevaluates his priorities. He is not here to learn of his counterpart’s intimate relationship with this Kirk, even though every part of Spock desperately wants to because of how badly he wants it with _his_ captain. No.

No, he is here to learn about the universe this Kirk came from in order to return him and get the right Jim back.

 _His_ Jim. Not the man seated across from him.

“Were you experiencing any kind of transporter malfunction prior to this venture?” Spock repeats, conscious now of how he must keep his voice from wavering.

“Aw, you’re not gonna change the subject so fast, now are you?” Kirk purrs, casually leaning across the table to reach toward him. Spock becomes very still in his seat. “Why don’t you and your precious _captain_ have a sexual relationship?”

He sounds like he’s mocking again. Spock shakes his head once. “This is irrelevant. If you do not comply, I will be forced to hand you over to the security team and lock you in the brig.”

“Look at you, being all in-charge,” Kirk coos. “ _Du petakov_.”

Spock’s eyebrows shoot up at the perfectly pronounced Vulcan phrase. Kirk laughs at his surprise, the sound so similar yet harsh. “Don’t tell me your Jim doesn’t know how to speak Vulcan.”

“How—” Spock starts to ask, but then catches himself. “It does not matter. You will respond to my questions or you will be put in containment.”

“No, we weren’t having transporter malfunctions,” Kirk gives in, still staring at him in a way that makes Spock want to squirm in his seat. “I hardly ever experience _malfunctions_ , although the same can’t be said for my counterpart.”

Spock takes a breath to steady himself. He would not let this Kirk goad him into something he would later regret. His shields would remain strong.

“I wonder if you’re a screamer,” Kirk muses suddenly, as if talking about Spock’s sex life was just as casual as asking about the weather. “I bet you are. There’s no way you can stay this uptight all the time.”

Spock’s tongue feels thick. “I—”

“My Spock was kind of like you, once,” Kirk continues. “He was reserved and a studious officer—until I stimulated him enough, of course. Then he was more than willing to relinquish control to _his_ captain.”

Spock feels his ears burn. He battles to keep his face neutral and unaffected, clutching the stylus even tighter.

Kirk looks him up and down, a hunger forming behind his eyes could only be described as feral. Spock finds himself unable to look away. “You’re much gentler than my Spock, too. Poor baby—you must be all pent up inside, exerting so much control at once. You must like it when your captain takes command away from you. Maybe a little too much.”

A dangerous heat curls low in Spock’s stomach. He feels short of breath, lightheaded even, to be looked in the eyes by the man so like the one he desires and have his fantasies spoken of so accurately. Kirk reaches forward and runs two fingers across the back of the hand holding the stylus in a Vulcan kiss. Spock starts, and goes to move his hand away but for some reason doesn’t.

Kirk smiles wickedly. And even though Kirk is chained to the table, Spock is the one who feels trapped.

“He doesn’t know how to treat you at all, does he, sweetheart?” Kirk says, his voice thick and sweet, like honey. It was an unnerving contrast the devilish look of the rest of his expression.

It takes a moment, but Spock finds his voice. He sits straighter and clutches the stylus until he can feel the utensil splintering. “Mister Kirk,” he tries desperately, his throat dry. “Remove your hand from mine.”

But instead, Spock’s mental shields come crashing down with the onset of a wave of feeling—lust and desire, flooding his head so abruptly it causes him to gasp. Kirk looks impish, clearly knowing the power of Vulcan touch-telepathy and how exactly to manipulate it.

“I thought you weren’t afraid of me,” Kirk taunts lightly, stroking the back of Spock’s knuckles.

Spock shakes his head, finding it harder to think under the thick haze of overpowering lust sparking his own. “I-I am not.”

Kirk nods once, still smirking slyly, as if playing along to a game he knew he had already won. “Because I’m not your captain, of course. But if I was, do you have any idea what I’d do to you?”

Spock’s mouth fails him, so he does not answer. It seems Kirk wasn’t expecting him to.

“I’d fuck that logical expression right off you,” Kirk says lowly. “Then, I’d keep you so well fucked it wouldn’t ever come back. You wouldn’t be able to walk without feeling me. Every time you bent over your little science station on the bridge you’d remember who you belonged to.”

Under the table, Spock feels as Kirk’s foot hook around his left ankle and drag his leg forward. Kirk’s foot inches up his calf, not once breaking his sultry gaze.

“I could do it right now,” Kirk says offhandedly. “These shackles are nothing compared to what we have on my _Enterprise_. But you’re nothing compared to my Spock—I’d rather wait to bend you over the desk until we have a better relationship.” Spock feels himself start to tremble as Kirk’s foot trails impossibly higher. “No, I’d like to take you somewhere where I could strip you down and make you squirm. You probably don’t have any scars, you’re too soft for that. Bet you still look pretty spread out and all flushed, though. Kinda like right now.”

Spock doesn’t even try to calculate how much blood has risen to the surface of his skin. He knows this was wrong—this wasn’t _Jim_ , not really. His heart beats rapidly at his side and he knows he should move away from Kirk but can’t, won’t. He tries to protest, but all that comes out of his mouth is a strangled whimper.

“ _Taluhk pi’vel_ ,” Kirk purrs, his head tilting almost sympathetically as his foot brushes the inside of Spock’s thigh. “Why are you so scared of feeling? You don’t need to be nervous. I’d be more than willing to tie you to the bed and make it so the only thing you can think of is your desperate need for my cock sinking inside you.”

Then Kirk’s boot presses firmly between Spock’s legs, grinding against the bulge that formed there. Spock gasps, the stylus snapping to pieces in his grip.

Kirk leans forward, eyes flashing as he hisses, “ _He_ might not know what he’s doing, but I’ll take care of you.”

Spock jerks back so fast he almost knocks over the chair. The metal scrapes loudly in the small room, echoing along with the frantic beating of his heart he is sure Kirk can hear. Kirk looks infuriatingly smug.

“Your attempts to seduce me as a distraction are futile,” Spock says shakily, trying hard not to sound as compromised as he felt. “You are not cooperating and will be confined until proper research can be completed on how to return you to your own universe.”

Kirk throws back his head and laughs, sounding delighted at Spock’s chagrin. “Knew you couldn’t handle me, little mouse.”

Instead of responding, Spock regains what little dignity he has and stands, positioning the PADD discreetly in front of his hips. “Thank you for your time, Mister Kirk,” he snaps coolly, stepping toward the door.

“Call me when you get tired of dealing with your Jim, baby,” Kirk teases, winking and crinkling the scar around his eye. “I’ll give you the ride of your life.”

Kirk’s laugh is still in his ears even after the door to the interrogation room slides closed. Spock squeezes his eyes shut and leans bodily against the wall as his knees give out. He takes a few ragged breaths and steadies himself. Even though Jim was gone, Spock must maintain his duties as First Officer and work to get him back as soon as possible.

But if he goes back to his quarters and screams his sexual frustration into a pillow before writing the report, no one knew the wiser.


End file.
